The Cursed
by Travlerspath
Summary: Where the royal are cursed with inexplicable powers and a princess looks for revenge trapped in the political courts around her. Not to mention her bodyguard is the brother of an assasian!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The snow flurries danced around her feet, the damp cold flushing her cheeks. She watched as the glistening snow covered the great expanse before her.

Henrique watched her and felt the deep pain with her, "We should head back my lady. The others will be worried if we stay out much longer," he murmured trying to pull her away from her thoughts. She continued to stare out into the treacherous expanse.

She saw the houses, the fires, the children, now all gone beneath the winter haze. She breathed in the chokingly cold air to keep from crying out. It was gone forever. A whole kingdom dismantled under one act of vengeance. Her only friend murdered while she left him for the calling of a crude and greedy king. Now even more war ravaged the land. The northern kingdoms fought for dominance in a never ending dispute. Soon her eastern kingdom would join the rampages. Her short scouting trip would supply the generals with the knowledge to launch a full scale attack with the Coastal Northern Kingdom. The snow fell upon her face faster than before as if crying for her. Soon blood would spill upon the ashes of little Cameron. Pointless blood that would never soothe the cries of his blood ties, that of the true Northern Cursed. No, for vengeance, for her friend Prince Cameron of the Northern Curse, she must look to the East, the paradox of everything sane. Turning she mounted her horse. Henrique followed suit and soon the silence was filled with the muffled sound of hoof beats.

It was some time before they reached camp and the moon, just a quarter full, had risen over the northern mountains. The lights of her camp shone brightly and Emma made note to see if the magi had begun to ration the dust reserves. The gates crept open and she was presented with her advisory council, if you could call it that. One of the many trials of the cursed.

"My Lady?" questioned Enrique softly his baritone voice was edged with malice. His eyes trailed over the old advisory crows. Their faked expressions of worry were a never ending plague he thought, but for this particular matter he had to agree with them. As much as he hated to admit it this topic was long overdue.

"It's alright Henrique." Tilting her head she wondered which topic they would bring up this time, "And what brings you here at this hour Lord Stein?"

"I only wish to serve but you have yet to reach a decion on the festive of the Upper East court. As an ally we should have gladly accepted weeks ago. The Upper East Court grows distant upon your silence and your poor council has been left without an answer yet again upon your absence." His tone was one of neglect but Emma new that he was anything but. He was as slippery as a snake and had climbed to Chief Councilman through cunning deceit and lies.

"Unfortunately I have not yet made a decion about the Upper East Court and I must remind you that we are not tied through them with friendship but out of need." Stepping forward Grisald, a man still new to the council, spoke up.

"We may hope that it will not be so for much longer." Henrique eyes narrowed at the mention, but stayed silent.

Emma too was silent but for a curt nod and rode past the council men. Dismounting at her tent she handed her horse off to be taken to pasture. Henrique was behind her and she knew an earful was coming about the Upper East Court.

"You must hurry and decide my lady. Soon the East will take offense. They will use it as a declaration of war as an excuse to expand their territory. Few countries are left in the East they have not swallowed up," his hands were clasped tightly behind his back trying to suppress his anger. "Our border is protected only by the Old River an easy." This is where she cut in, "An easy what?" her voice was high and she concentrated to lower it. "You forget that the Old River is protected by our Goddess Clemmence. She created the earth; she decides who is worthy of the curse."

"Forgive me but the Gods pay little attention to the comings and goings of the land. You must decide to go or not. Remember however," he paused for emphasis, "the consequences of your actions. Now if I may beg your leave," his eyes still glowed with the ferociousness of his brother as he silently left her tent moving along the freshly fallen snow. The elk skin door still swayed from his abruptness as Emma sunk into the floor cushions. She had forgotten to ask him to check in on the magi. She had not wanted to use the dust until they absolutely had too. The dust was an important part of the land and no one truly knew how it was created. She was worried about the stashes of light dust, already a decidedly small amount, of running out before they reached the Northern Mountains. Light dust, a mix of ember and glass dust that shone more brightly than any human fire, would be needed as they wound their ways through the decrepit tunnels plunged in darkness. The magi who worked the dust spent their life perfecting their craft. Most were trained in schools funded by the court, but some were naturally born with the innate understanding of dust and these rare individuals required little training. These people were exceptionally rare however and dust was an expensive commodity. The average person would only see dust maybe once or twice in his or her life leaving little chance for such people to be found. The exceptions were merchants who relied on dust for safety and trade. Her forehead creased. Wasting dust was something not even the crown should do. Her thoughts were interrupted as an airy voice careened from across her tent.

"Henrique temper was not something I anticipated. What did you do to make him so angry?" Her calloused hands carried a tray filled with sweet breads, seasonal fruits, and simpleton meets.

"It's not my fault he has such a temper. He brought up The Upper East problem again."

"Well it is his homeland there is no surprise he wouldn't want a war with them," she said setting down the tray, her ebony hair falling over her shoulders. "He would have to risk fight against his own brother and probably the destruction of his own family, if they are still alive. The Upper East is terribly fond of torture."

"Can we not bring up such dismal topic? I'm the one having to go their after all."

"So you've decided then," she asked pouring a fragrant tea into two unfished terracotta mugs.

"There isn't much of a choice. And besides starting a war is not something King Isenguard would forgive; daughter or not."

"So why haven't you done so already. Angering Henrique and the councilmen is pointless unless you want to be annexed upon your enthronement."

"You forget; I am not just angering them but Isenguard. Father doesn't like the idea of me being able to control our country's future. Besides maybe he'll spend less time at tournaments and more on fortifying the kingdom for the inevitable war of his," She picked up a sesame roll tearing off a piece. "I tell him tomorrow, let his temper cool off first."

Sarah began to unroll the furs for her and Emma's beds, her slight figure casting a shadow across the floor. She was originally from the west. An untamed land with no permanent ruler. It was their where her tribe was attacked and her people taken hostage. She had traveled to the Eastern Capital Claymont where she had worked long hours in a large noble house. She had worked as a seamstress for most of her time their working into the late hours by candle light. As a result her hazel eyes squinted as she tired. Now was such a time and Sarah wondered why go to such lengths over such trivial matters. Politics did not interest her nor was she as quick witted as Henrique or Emma to match them. She had only been given to Emma as a present; but she had found a home here and the work was easier. One day if Emma became Queen she might even be in charge of other slaves. Quietly she slipped into her night shift blowing out the candles. Emma had already slipped into her own quilted mat. As Sarah lay their, her head against the goose stuffed pillow, she couldn't think of anything more that she wanted.

Henrique couldn't sleep. How could Emma risk war over her own personal feelings! He lay on his fur rugs and watched the candle light. He naturally loathed Emma position. The princess herself was far more considerate that he had imagined but she had been born a princess. She had been given everything that he'd lacked; him and his brother. He remembered how everything had been wrenched away. But a brother of an assassin could never openly admit his loneliness not even if he was free. His brother was so different from himself. Erik was strong and quick; he could have been a hallowed night of the realm, but coming from such a lowly position he never would've have made it higher than a Lutenist or Captain. They did share the same amber eyes and shaggy brown hair, but his brother stood a good five inches taller than him and his ability at tracking was far superior. When they had first gone hunting by themselves, they couldn't have been more than twelve, Erik had tracked down the wild turkeys with ease and while Henrique had barely managed to take down the nearest turkey, Erik had gotten the fattest one of the lot. They had also shared a sharp nose for trouble. He smiled at the thought. Memories, encrypted with the echo of laughter, rose above his thoughts. He and his brother were submerged in the murky river by their house. They had swam their often through their years together. Once Henrique had found a hardly torn shirt floating down the stream. He had took it to his mother and she put it away to wear only for special occasions. He had been wearing it the same day his brother first left him.


	2. Chapter 2 part 1

Hello all. This is my first story so i'm rather excited about it and i hope you enjoy it (you've read this far so i think you do.) I hope to continue posting on it every one to two weeks and it should have quite a few chapters to it. Anyways ill get out of you way now. Cheers! (Oh, and the next part will be more on Enrique's brother.)

Chapter Two

The sound of metal rang through her tent startling both Emma and Sarah wide awake. They exchanged a nervous glance before rushing to the door. The crack they saw through depicted the monstrous scene before them. Petrified Sarah stood their her lips starting to quiver. Emma let the door shut and dove for the sword she had been given featuring an embossed golden handle. It was in a large chiseled trunk. Cursing she yanked aside the precious items of holy water, amethyst, and colored inks, grabbing the hilt of her sword. The familiar hilt rested in her palm, her skin pressing against the cold metal. Soon her breathing calmed. Sarah was watching her with frightened eyes. It was too dangerous to stay inside the tent Emma thought. In three quick paces she sliced the back of the tent creating an exit. Peering out she examined the foreign soldiers more closely. They bore no insignia and their technique was sloppy. However their numbers were great numbering three to one. What in her Graces name was this? Had they been mistaken for a raiding party or had they discovered her scouting party's true purpose. Had this been planned? Then she saw him. Enrique broke through a wave of soldiers his eyes resting on her just before shifting to her right. Instinctively she ducked. Two ragamuffin soldiers came swinging their long blades toward Emma. She managed a block then another. The screech of metal filled her ears and soon the blades were all she could see, all she could hear. Her footsteps began to beat out a rhythm as more and more soldiers came. She could no longer sense Sarah. One soldiger appeared and then another. Her movements were a blur before her. Slowly the light blue hue of her hem began to darken. Blood splattered. Her eyes showed no emotion; hardly blinking. The soldier's steps grew louder. They were everywhere. Towering above her and mocking her from below. She stepped on dead bodies, on skulls. They stepped to upon their brethren, rushing to her blade. Their faces were contoured in a slough of rage and hostility. Each one met her blade. The agony that shot through them seemed to detonate any previous thought. and for but a moment they realized their foolishness. No longer a child they fell limp beneath her feet. Emma did not see it though. She never looked because she knew in truth she was a coward. Separating family, destroying souls, it wall so very familiar. Death. It was who she was. It was more than just a curse, it was her past, and it was her future.

_"Ma! Where are they taking me? I don't want to go. Don't leave me." Tears ran down her face. Two guards forced her into the carriage. Their were bars on the window and a lock on the door._

_"Its okay. You're going to be safe." Her mothers hair was blew past her as she gripped her daughters hand in the carriage. The horses began to trot. Soon the walls would separate them. "Remember, be cautious and use your head."_

_"Ma!"_

_"I love you my sweet, sweet, Emma." She was forced to let go of her hand as the soldiers by the gate pushed her back. She fell backwards her arm still out stretched. The gates were closing. Emma tears ran down the metallic bars. She tasted blood. Just before the carriage turned she saw a different soldier. Dressed in black and holding an ax. _

_"Maaaaaa! I love you, I really really love you." The more she cried the more she thought of her mother and the more she wished for her father. If only her father had been their. They should never of left. Father hadn't meant what he'd said. But still she cried for what must of been an eternity._

Enrique watched as Emma took down the last soldier. She stood their in that last stroke as if she was waiting for more. The battle had lasted for three hours or so staining the snow with chilled blood in the morning light. Most of their company had fled into the dunes watching from a far. The soldiers scampered together forming defensive formations. As the alternate soldiers they were hardly prepared. It was Emma who had saved them. Her fire red hair, completely escaped from her braid, traced her sword's path, never ceasing. What had she lost this time? The insane power given to the cursed was always balanced. He watched as she lowered her weapon letting it clink against her side. Sarah started to step forward but he stopped her.

Emma regarded her surroundings. No one was running. Her people were watching her. Waiting to see what she would do. No real damage had been done but only half of her soldiers remained. She motioned to the two nearest of them. They ran up quickly as if afraid. Both were young and the realization of what battle really meant was only just dawning on them. "Tally up the dead and find me the council," she said, "I want reports by nightfall." Turning she saw Sarah walking up, Enrique behind her. People began to return to their tents deciding that it was safe enough. Emma are you all right? It was Sarah her eyes were dry but her hands were noticabley shaking. Enrique and Sarah had gone through the piles of dead bodies around her and Emma doubted Sarah had any past experience with death. Or perhaps too much. "My lady, do you have any ideas on who these men were," asked Henrique. Emma shook her head, "No more than you. I've called for the council. No doubt they will have their own opnions. Sarah, go help were you can. I imagine the healers would appreciate you right now." Emma watched her leave before she continued in a low voice. "Enrique, do you believe your brother could be behind this?"

"No, but it could very well be someone he works for. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. It could be anyone."

She nodded her agreement, "Either way it was poorly planned. If the raiders had known who we were i don't think they would've attacked so rashly. But anyone who knew who we were would never send such terrible soldiers. I doubt the soldiers even knew who we were."

The council had fled to the dunes and had already talked much of the attack over. They approached now clustered together.

"I see you two have already begun," said Lord Stein. He was at the forefront of the council, seemingly undisturbed by the chaos around them. "Should I assume you know who our attackers were?"

Enrique snorted, "If it were that easy we'd already be preparing for retaliation."

"And I assume we are down half our numbers?"

"That's what it looks like," said Emma, "the reports aren't in yet but our troops were not prepared for a surprise attack. Our loses will number high. I'm sure you already know that. The council seems to have fared quite well up on the dunes."

Ignoring her comment a man dressed in black, Lord Albert, stepped forward, "Do we have enough to safely navigate the Northern Mountains? If half our ranks have been cut I fear the great losses we may bear if we push through the tunnels."

"Lord Albert is correct," admonished Grisald, "We must think of our men. More over what of the return trip. There is no ally we can call upon to replenish our men."

"Your highness," Lord Stein bowed, "we believe a return trip is in order. We have enough surrounding details of the North to greatly affect the generals. There is no need to push yourself further.

Emma jaw tightened, "I will decide on our course of action and I demand that we continue on. We were assigned to give a full report on the Northern Kingdoms not on the land surrounding it." She knew this assignment had only been given to quell a spoiled princess. Failing this mission would only give them reason to deny her the next. If need be she would take the forefront at the tunnels. "Now tell me, how much light dust have you used up?

"Only a third," said Grisald.

"A third," bellowed Enrique, "What did you do with all of it?"

"In battle a group of the rebels made off with some of it. When they encountered some of our soldiers the bags were torn and the dusts melted into the snow. At least so I'm told. It doesn't matter now Enrique," soothed Lord Stein, "Were going to head back."

Emma jerked her head, "Lord Stein do you dare dictate my decisions?"

"No, never princess." He couldn't help the smallest of smiles playing on his face, "but the council voted. As you are yet to be enthroned you do not wield absolute power. It was a unanimous decision."

Sarah stepped in toward Lord Stein so only he could hear her, "do you wish for your death to be my first decree," she whispered

"Not at all princess," his voice carrying above the soldiers, "I am simply saving you from yourself. Now, Let us go gentlemen" Their footsteps glowed upon the maroon stained snow. They had not cared about their poorly hidden lie. Emma was still seething by the time she reached her tent after hours of rallying her soldigers spirts, sitting by their bedsides. She had yet to change out of her night wear from the morning. It was now encased with dried blood and smelled of the dead. Stripping off her blue tapered pants and embroidered layered petal skirt she quitley laminated over her defeat. She had not been suspecting raids on her encampment. Slipping on a fresh green assemble of the same order she reviewed herself in the mirror. She had tucked her finely knitted shirt in sloppily and her hair was hopelessly tangled. "May I come in now my lady?" Sighing she glanced at the tent entrance, "One moment," she called, quickly fixing her shirt. She had hoped he would just go to his own tent instead of waiting. She opened the tent's flap and there he was, his face, lined with worry. Guilt filled her stomach for ignoring him so readily. "My lady, I hope you are not too distressed," Enrique asked his eyebrows raised. "Not at all," she said motioning him in. He relaxed as if this took every worry he had off his shoulders. Sometimes he was as compassionate as a brother. Other times it seemed like he didn't trust her. When she first came back to her kingdom five years ago, before she had learned of Cameron's death, Enrique had been especially assigned to her safety. He wouldn't talk at first and he'd never told her the details of his past, but he hadn't pretended to be happy. He hadn't smiled or tried to be fancy. He did his job and that was it. He didn't give her things she didn't deserve. Of course being back at court she thought she deserved everything. After the initial affect wore off however she had begun to see the darker side of the castle. It was then she finally appreciated his steady heartbeat. He never gave an inch for her amusment. He still didn't. "What of the report on our men?" she asked. "We lost a little under half of them. I believe however, if I may say so, that your ferociousness on the battlefield was greatly appreciated. The men wish to congratulate you on your victory." He tried not to sound to stiff and apparently it worked. "Do they do so because they truly wish me well or because they are now certain I am one of the cursed," she asked. "I think both," he said his lips pulling up on the sides. She put on her boots, telling herself not to look in his eyes. She new what he wanted to ask. Instead she said "Now why are you here? You could of told me after I'd come back out." She knew he wouldn't come to her tent just to ask a question; no matter how important. He hesitated, "King Isenguard would like to speak to you. We received a messenger bird just after the battle wishing for a conference with his majesty and yourself. The maji are already in the calling room." Groaning, she stood up. At least Isenguard could't actually see her.

Everything was set up when she arrived. She alone was preset besides the magi; Enrique was waiting out side. The lone stone table inside was covered in colored dust salts. Calling salts were a tricky business. A collection of wind and traveling dusts were required. For more than a brief message however the wind salts had to be bound in a thread like embrace, glued together by a perfect balance of heat, to keep the sound circling. Magi were present to keep the salts at a constant temperature so as to not distrupt the air flows that transmitted the calls. Sitting down she waited for them to begin. Slowly the oldest magi began to weave the salt threads thorugh his hands, up and down the air. Slowly the salts began to circle round the small room and out into the sky. Young magi worked the fire beneath the table. Their hands shifted the salts to adjust for temputure and worked the small bellows by the fire. She looked to the old man who nodded at her to begin. No doubt King Isenguards mages had already picked up the winding threads. "King Isenguardm," she started, " you bade me call. What honor might I be bestowed upon this evening?" It would be no use being rude to him. He was sure to know of the days events. "Emma," is voice was tinged with dismay, "I hear you've ran into some trouble. Some unknown tribesmen from the west. The council has already told me about the current state of your regiment. Unfortunately I have to agree with the council that it is time for you to come back. At least until your departure to the Upper East that is." "King Isenguard I'm sure I do not know what you mean." Only pure Innosence would be found in Emmas voice. "I have taken the liberty," droled Isenguard, "to reply for you to the Upper East Court since you were so preoccupied with your assighnment. I told them you'd be staying for the festivals as well." Emma pictured kicking the fat king off his high throne. It didn't help. Instead she said "I offer my gratitude my king. You have saved me much trouble. I hope this humble servant of yours brings to you no misfortune." "On the contrary Emma, you quite amuse me." Her face burned. "Now Emma, I have to cut this short. Matters of state an all that jovial business. I belive I will see you soon. May Clemmence watch over you." "And to you, King Isenguard," she choked out. The traditional farwell did not sit well with her. The magi cut the connection and the young ones began to clean up the ashes. She felt like a child. How could she of not see this coming? Enrique would laugh at her and Sarah would just click her tongue. She should of known Isenguard wouldn't just sit back while she ignored the invite. "Emma, how did it go?" it was Enrique. Standing up she stormed past him. "Wait," he urged grabbing her wrist. "I don't want to put it off anymore. Tell me, what did you lose this morning. Was it one of your memories?" She yanked her wrist back, "yes, and just as you wanted, I have been ordered to the Upper East. Is their anything else you wish to know?" Her voice was iron and the magi probably heard every word, so loud was her voice. At leat no one else was around. She pulled her wrist back,"I'm sorry Enrique. Speaking to my father is not one of my favorite things to do." His eyes were compassionate as was his voice, "I know that. Now tell me which memory was it?" "Not an important one; something about my mother." Enrique inhaled sharply. She held up a hand, "it was a long time ago. You know that. Today has been a long enough day. Sarah will be back at the tent and I plan on actually brusing my hair tonight." "Very well my lady," he said stiffly, bowing at the waist. "I'll leave you to your evening then." His hair, long and beaded, covered his face. As she left she knew not of what he truly felt. Sarah was not their and so Emma set about brushing her own hair, something she had not done in ages.


End file.
